Swindle On Soccer, Vol. 4: Golden Guus!

If you've read a ton of tributes about Guus (that's goooooose) Hiddink already, chances are you're a member of the British Commonwealth stumbling over into a strange corner of the interweb. If you aren't and have already waded through troughfuls of congratulatory lauding of the quadrennial genius, then you may want to skip the next five paragraphs or so, because we are about to roll on our back giddily in a display of submission to our favorite soccer coach ever, the current Australian head coach and Dutch genius Guus Hiddink.

Bow to the most brilliant honorary Korean in the world.

Guus has coached three teams in the World Cup, and each time they were the bandito special of the Cup.

First was Holland '98, which if you'll reach back deep in the mists of time should conjure up memories of tons of Chemical Brothers played to the sight of oranje jerseys running madly upfield to score go-ahead goals with the ref looking nervously at the scanty seconds of his stopwatch running down (Ed: click here and watch first 40 seconds to see Bergkamp's last minute winner against ARG to send Holland into the semifinal). Patrick Kluivert played the last twenty minutes of each match like Hiddink had a sniper in the stands, just itching to bring him down the instant Holland lost. Kluivert played brilliant, desperate football. Hell, they all played like they were playing with rented legs, sending defending midfielders forward in a mad attack that almost took them to the final before losing on penalties to Brazil. Brazil went on to go haywire against a foie gras-smooth French side, leaving instant Hiddink converts like us pondering the hypotheticals of a Holland/France final for the rest of our lives.

You broke his heart, Brazil.You bastards.

Hiddink didn't really attain nearly godlike status with us until Copa 2002; prior to that, he just coached good players in a thrilling fashion, a kind of anti-Sven Goren Eriksson (who coaches some thrilling players in a merely good fashion.)

Hiddink didn't make the semi-finals of the '02 Cup with Holland. He did it with South Korea, a team that prior to '02 hadn't won a single match in World Cup play, much less advanced to the second round of play. Hiddink beat the spiralling Portuguese, tied the United States in a brutal, physical match, and straight up ran Poland off the pitch in a 2-0 victory to advance to the second round. The Red Devils--Hiddink not only seems to like impossible missions, but also seems to require badass nicknames--finished their sweep of the Iberian peninsula by beating Spain on penalties before reaching the end of their run by playing a team that was as physical and as conditioned as they were: Germany. They played Turkey and lost, a spent, depleted, and completely satisfied fourth place squad.

When Asians carry large pictures of you,it means they love you.

Hiddink's getting the ROK that far owed much to Hiddink's constant familiars: lungbusting hustle, ferocious attacking, and unaccountably good luck. The South Koreans, outmatched in talent and size, ran their opponents into the ground and challenged even the most meaningless of passes, scoring on opportunities forged largely of kismet, buckets of sweat, and the other team's errors. Like Holland '98, they played like defiant condemned men. Hiddink earned privileges in South Korea customarily reserved for the leader of North Korea: honorary citizenship, hero worship on a level usually reserved for Hello Kitty characters, and his own private villa on Jeju Island. Add that to the free airplane tickets for life, and Hiddink's work for the Koreans paid for itself in a matter of seconds from the signing of his contract.

(Zoom out for a second, and consider how remarkable this is, especially given the fact that we'll shock you with this: Hiddink is not Korean. We know, shocking stuff. Korea has traditionally been a very, very xenophobic place, even to half-Korean children of American soldiers and Korean citizens, as anyone who's read about Hines Ward's trips back to his mother's country will know. There's great historical reasons for this, since Korea's been abused by its goliath neighbors China and Japan for millenia and is currently bisected by an arrangement many Koreans believe has been imposed on them by larger, more distant powers. They're not alone in being xenophobic, though; Korean fans, as far as we know, never pelted black players with bananas like European soccer fans have at times. Point being: Hiddink's success in a place where he neither spoke the language nor had an instant "in" stands as solid evidence of his skill in winning wherever he decides to knot up his tie.)

Hiddink's now the coach of TWO teams, PSV Eindhoven in the Dutch League and the Australian national team which, despite a legacy of failure has--yep--just won their first World Cup '06 match in stunning fashion against Japan, scoring two late goals in a flurry of action that brought to mind other boldly colored, full-force squads from prior Cups. They play Brazil next, and Hiddink's got the Socceroos full up on crazy pills. Assistant coach Graham Arnold:

"It's a fantastic experience to be in the position to play them."

Not the words most would use to describe playing Brazil, which would be "dizzying," "sickening," "pants-crappingly humiliating," or just inaudible whimpers coming from deep in their abdomen as commentary. Evidently Guus has the snipers out in full force in the stands again.

Hiddink will leave the team after the World Cup finals to move on to his next impossible project, coaching the dismal Russian squad for the '10 squad, trying to build another Cinderella in an environment where Russian mobsters may actually have snipers in the stands to "ensure victory at all costs." If you believe in trends, book a prison cell for Hiddink in advance, since his popularity will eclipse shortly after Russia advances out of the first round of the Cup, forcing Vladimir Putin to view him as a threat to his power and jail him immediately. Never fear, though; if the Koreans have memories as long as we think they do, ROK shock troops will free him with the assistance of ANZAC helicopters in a daring rescue operation spiriting Hiddink away from certain doom. The soccer-loving world would rejoice at what all would consider a humanitarian mission in the name of sport. Rightfully so.

4 comments:

1) That pic of old-skool Guus with stache is hilarious. To me it looks just like Cliff Clavin with an attutude, like you went into Cheers a bit tipsy and said something about his mailman uniform or white socks/dar shoes combo. He turns to you, makes that exact face and says "You talking to me?". Sweet.

2) As far as sweet nicknames, don't forget that Holland are know as the "Orange Crush", so throw that in with Red Devils and Socceroos.

3) I'll finish the story for you. In 2008, Guus is hired to coach Cameroon, a strong African team with unquestionably the best nickname in all of sport, the Indomitable Lions, as in "sure, you beat us 5-0. But you didn't dominate." He leads them to World Cup 2010 in SOuth Africa, the 1st WC to be held on African soil. The Indomitable Lions, led by Samuel Eto'o, who will then be 28 years old and at the zenith of his career, march all the way to the final and knock out a European superpower in the final, doing the impossible and becoming the first African team to win the World Cup (I don't think any African tema has ever made the semifinals) in the 1st world Cup held on African soil.

Guus is immediately installed as president and supreme ruler of Cameroon. He is albe to successfully lobby the UN and WTO to reduce much of the debt of African nations that is an economic noose around their necks. He also negotiates peaceful settlements to the civil wars in many countries. Africa begins to prosper for the first time in many, many moons. The nAfrican nations are so thrilled with Guus's magic touch, they nband together and elect Guus to be the supreme leader of all of Africa, which convers in to The United States of Africa and becomes an economic, political, and cultural superpower. Mt. Kilimanjaro is renamed Mt. Hiddink, and a Mt. Rushmore like rock carving is created with only his face.

*Although fictional hyperbole, with a peaking Eto'o I do think Cameroon can win the 2010 WC on African soil. The African teams will be more inspired by the "home advantage" than any prior host, and I think an African team will make it all the way to the final.

4) I forgot to mention what a testament to his coaching ability that he is coaching both a club team and and a national eam at the same time. Think about it: both PSV and AUstralia(and Russia), think so highly of him that they will pay him to be their coach even though they know that he will not be able to devote 100% of his time and ebergy into their team, because he will be spending a significant chunk of time and energy on another soccer project. What a testament to his ability as a coach.

I picked Australia to go through, beat Italy, and make the quarterfinals before this tournament began, aprtly because I think they are a talented team that the world is sleeping on, but also because they have in my opinion one of the 2 best coaches in the tournament (Scolari, Portugal) if not the best.

If I could have any manager in the world, my shortlist would be 1) Wenger 2) Hiddink 3) Scolari.

Lastly, on his Wiki page his nickname is given as "Golden Goose", which is pretty damn strong as well.

Hiddink is the man. No question. As a Scotland fan let me tell you how pleased I am that Brian Barwick and the English FA Brain Trust managed to offend Hiddink to the point that he and his agent stopped speaking to the FA...

There was a priceless interview on SportsWeek on Five Live during which Garry Richards interviewed Hiddink's agent, who pointed out that you either got what Hiddink could do, or you didn't, and asking him to go through multiple interviews was a sign of amateurism... the English sports journalists made noises about arrogance etc., but in their hearts they should have known it was all over for getting an interesting replacement for pants-down Svennis.